Haunted by the Past
by Soul-of-Hecate
Summary: Ghosts are known for haunting us. My question is: what's haunting them?
1. Stinkie's Nightmare

Disclaimer: I own no characters. All I own are my own ideas.

Nightmares/dreams/flashbacks are _**italicized and in bold.**_

Thoughts are _italicized_...unless the italicized is in a conversation.

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Haunted by the Past

_** Pain. The smoke both blotting out most of his vision and making his lungs burn as he turned away from his younger brothers' still form. He couldn't help Jacob…not now. How had this happened? He and his brothers weren't exactly well liked in town, but would any of them really go this far?**_

_**It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. But he kept moving, trying to find the way out. Any way out. Something above him snapped and he was forced to the ground beneath it. One of his ankles broke from the pressure that it had vainly tried to fight against, and hot ash burned his skin as he struggled to get out from under the beam. His vision was starting to blur, but it was just the smoke. It had to be.**_

_**He looked up when a rush of air blew past him. The door, only a few feet away, had opened. Melissa! She'd help him! She'd-Suddenly she smiled. Martin watched in disbelief as she slowly waved at him and closed the door. No...No. No! What was wrong with her!? Why would she-it all fell into place.**_

_**She had asked them to meet her here. Alexander had warned them against it, but they hadn't listened. Melissa had said that he shouldn't be bossing them around anyway; they weren't little kids. So they'd met her here and...and then the fire started.** **No...she had started it! She had set them up! She had wanted them dead! **_

_**An unrivaled panic filled him as he felt his mind fading. Adrenaline kicked in and he managed to get enough leverage to get the beam off of his back...only to scream as pain when it collided with his broken ankle. His adrenaline rush ended and the beam fell hard. His body went numb. He was trapped. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die.**_

And he woke up, panting. It took a few minutes before he remembered that he didn't need to breathe anymore. He was already dead. It was a nightmare. A nightmare…and a memory. He shuddered as he once again recalled that terrible, chilling smile. "You alright?"

Starting at his brother's whispered words, Martin jerked his head up to find his older brother watching him with concern. "Fine. I'm…fine." He said quietly, ducking his head in shame. Scared by a stupid little nightmare, what kind of ghost was he? "No you ain't. You think I'm stupid or something?" Alexand…uh "Stretch" was looking at him incredulously.

"No, no, no! 'Course not! I just…" Mar...Stinkie sighed. "I'm a ghost." He whispered, not daring to meet Stretch's eyes. "We ain't supposed to be scared of nothin'." He finished even quieter, hanging his head as he waited for his brother's stared at him for a few minutes, expression unreadable. The lanky ghost floated over until he was next to his brother's bed. "Look at me." He said. The younger ghost didn't move. After a few moments of staring at him, Stretch sat down on the bed. "Hey, bro, come on…Martin, look at me."

Stinkie looked up at the mention of his old name. They didn't use them often and since Stretch was, he'd better listen. "What?" Stinkie asked. Stretch was silent for a moment as he tried to collect his thoughts. "What you went through…what you both went through…that's definitely not _nothing_!" Stretch tried to keep his voice even but couldn't help as it into a hiss at the end as he thought of what that _monster_ did to them. Pulling his mind back to the present he finished his thoughts "Ain't no shame in being scared by that. Got it?"

Stinkie looked at his older brother silently, then up at the ceiling, and back to his brother before nodding. "And anyway, so long as you don't start venting about it to the Doc in those 'therapy sessions' of ours, I think you'll be fine." Patting his brother on the back and giving him a weary grin, Stretch floated back to his bed and laid down.

Silence filled the room as Stinkie followed his example soon after. For a while, he stared at the ceiling as he thought over everything. _Stretch is right. I mean, Fatso has nightmares about that night too...but he died without seeing her. He just has memories of the fire. Funny, I'd almost say he was lucky. What that monster did would be enough to give even the toughest ghost nightmares._ Shaking off the remainder of the dark thoughts in his mind, Stinkie las his head down and let himself relax. A few minutes later, he was fast asleep.

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Huh, I finished my first story. And it's actually somewhat believable. At least, according to me. Sorry to anyone who thinks their O.O.C. but I went with what felt right. 'Kay, so the next chapter is about Stretch. Remember how furious he looked when Kat said "Get a grave?" Yeah, there's definitely a reason... Anyway hope you don't think it bombed. Soul-of-Hecate out. Peace.


	2. Stretch's Flashback

Sorry, I'm _really_ slow when it comes to updating.

Disclaimer: I don't own Casper or the Ghostly Trio, so can somebody PLEASE cage up those rabid fans?

Nightmares/dreams/flashbacks are _**italicized and in bold.**_

Thoughts are _italicized._

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Haunted by the Past (2)

_Stupid fleshie._ Breakfast was over an hour ago. Stretch glared out the window. Stinkie and Fatso were on the couch fighting over which show they would watch next. Kat's words still at the front of his mind._ "Get a grave" How dare she say that to ME!...It's not right, what they did._

_** "You monster!" "Go back to Hell where you belong demon!" "Murderer!" That last one was the one that struck the hardest. All of the other things they said paled in comparison to that. They couldn't really think he had done it? Whether they did or not didn't really matter. **__**He**__** knew he wasn't guilty, and his brother's would have said the same…but they were the ones who'd been killed.**_

_** Violet eyes raked across the crowd of people calling for his blood. For 'justice'. Ignoring the looks of hatred and disgust in the faces of the townspeople, Alexander searched for any familiar faces in the crowd. There were none. **__So, they weren't lying, then. __**After his 'trial' he'd listened to his judge say that the rest of the McFadden clan would be kept from his execution. They weren't even going to be given the body afterwards. He apparently didn't deserve a marked grave.**_

_**Alexander looked down at his wrist at the bracelet his sister Cassandra had given him when they'd said their last goodbyes. None of the guards had taken it from him, though he knew that was because it was made invisible to everyone who wasn't in his clan. This thing would help them find him afterwards and keep him from decaying in the meantime…in theory. No one had used it for tracking before. What if they couldn't-no. It wouldn't matter anyway. **__**He**__** wouldn't be there to care. He turned his head back to the crowd, keeping his expression indifferent. There was no way he'd show fear. Not to these bastards.**_

_**The minister finished reading off the charges and had the rope tightened. "Now, good people of Stormhaven, we will cleanse ourselves of this abomination." He motioned to someone behind Alexander. Suddenly, a shrill voice screamed out from the back of the crowd, and everyone turned to the source.**_

_** His blood ran cold. The wordless scream had come from a seven-year-old little girl. Tears were running down her face and strands of her black hair were stuck to her face. Her tears followed the path of the scars the cliff rocks had left when she'd fallen down them just over a year ago. "No…" he whispered under his breath. "Hecate…"**_

_** The floor fell out from under him and the rope pulled taunt. There was a spike of pain in his neck before everything went black.**_

_Never did find my body, wherever those bastards hid it._ Now the two younger members of the Trio were engaged in a tug-of-war over the remote. Growling, Stretch glided over to them, snatched the remote, and turned the channel to the action movie network before going back to his chair with the remote. "I can't even think straight with you two around." Stretch grumbled as he set the remote on the floor.

Stinkie and Fatso glanced at each other, shrugged, and sat back down on the couch. _Finally some peace. _"Hey!" Fatso exclaimed after a few seconds "I've seen this one before! They-" "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Just 'cause you stay up to watch them late-night shows don't you get to ruin the ending!" Stinkie said. _Alright, that's it! _"Both of ya just shut up and watch the damn movie!" Stretch yelled, eyes flashing red.

For a few minutes only the sounds of the television could be heard in the room. Stinkie and Fatso eyed their brother warily. Sighing, Stretch got up. "I'm…goin' upstairs." He said quietly. "I'll see ya at dinner." _Why'd those stupid fleshies have ta come here. _ Floating through the ceiling, Stretch went to the third floor and started towards his room. _It's just day one and one of 'em's already got me pissed off. It's is gonna be hell 'til they leave._

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Read and review please, peoples. Review(insert spooky voice from nowhere)...or it will haunt you for the rest of your days. Mwahahaha! 'K thanks, next (and last) chapter is about Fatso. It's gonna be a good dream to balance out all the bad vibes.


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